


The One With the New Emissary

by mikkimouse



Series: Sterek Week 2016 [4]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Emissary Stiles Stilinski, Hurt Derek, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Magical Stiles Stilinski, Pre-Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-22
Updated: 2017-02-22
Packaged: 2018-09-26 07:40:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 694
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9873962
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mikkimouse/pseuds/mikkimouse
Summary: "Hey, big guy," the new face said. "You've been hurt pretty bad. I'm going to help you, okay?"Derek tried to ask who the man was, but what came out was, "Angel?"The man laughed. "Something like that."





	

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Magic!Stiles Day of Sterek Week Thanks to [@spellwovennight](https://tmblr.co/mVAWMlTufiF-mhjj62sRdeQ) and [@infectedcolors](https://tmblr.co/mWD3dyj3chycTAsOdgpUWow) for the beta read!
> 
> Originally posted to Tumblr [here.](https://mad-madam-m.tumblr.com/post/152401972735/sterek-week-day-4-the-one-with-the-new-emissary)

The car ran over a bump, and Derek bit back a groan. His side felt like it was on fire, like lava was crawling through his veins. It had been stupid, jumping in front of the gun, but it was either that or watch Laura get shot and Derek couldn't let that happen.

They hit another pothole, and he couldn't stop the groan that time. 

Cora squeezed his hand, trying to take his pain, but there was only so much she could do. "We'll be home soon," she said. "Just hang on a few more minutes, Derek."

He could hear Laura in the driver's seat, talking in a low voice, but he couldn't make out what she was saying. 

The car accelerated, and Derek closed his eyes against the pain.

When he opened his eyes next, he was staring at the ceiling of the living room. He heard voices around him, but couldn't focus long enough to understand them. The smells were muted, probably a side effect of the wolfsbane, and that was almost as unsettling as the throbbing pain in his side.  


Laura's voice rose, whether because she was angry or scared, Derek couldn't tell. He tried to tell her that he hadn't meant to worry her, but all he could croak out was, “Sorry.”

Then a new face appeared in front of him, with a pair of warm amber eyes and a small smile and a series of little moles. Derek liked the moles; they were pretty. 

"Hey, big guy," the new face said. "You've been hurt pretty bad. I'm going to help you, okay?" 

Derek tried to ask who the man was, but what came out was, "Angel?" 

The man laughed. "Something like that. This may, uh, hurt a little."

There was no way it would hurt more than it currently did. 

The man placed his hand on Derek's forehead, and with his other hand, started tracing along Derek’s abdomen, near where he'd been shot. Even through the pain, the gentle touch felt nice and cool, a blessed counterpoint to the burning pain. 

And then the burning got _worse_.

Derek jolted, trying to get away from it, but the man held him down. It felt like someone had jammed a hot poker into the bullet wound and kept making it hotter, so hot Derek couldn't stand it. His fangs lengthened and he roared, digging claws into whatever was closest to him. He had been wrong, so wrong; it hurt _far_ more than it had before.

Then the man let go and Derek could move again. 

He lurched up off the couch and onto the floor, and vomited black goop onto his mother's favorite rug. 

He shakily crawled back onto the couch. He felt sick, but his side was no longer on fire, and the burning had subsided to a familiar soreness that always accompanied his healing. 

He wasn't going to die. He would be okay. 

"Derek!" Laura was by his side with a steadying arm. "How are you feeling? God, you absolute--" 

He patted her arm. "I'm okay, Laur. It's okay."

She buried her face in his shoulder and hugged him hard, and Derek rested his cheek on her head.

His eyes focused again on the young man kneeling in front of him, with the moles and the amber eyes. He smelled of spice and magic, and regarded Derek with a shrewd gaze. 

Now that he was no longer delirious with pain and wolfsbane poisoning, Derek drew back at this strange person in the middle of their pack space. "Who the hell are you?" 

The guy snorted and wiped his hands on his jeans, long fingers decorated with tattooed runes that Derek couldn't stop staring at. "Not even a 'thank you' for saving your life?"

"Sorry," Laura said. "He's wary around strangers."

Derek stiffened. "For good reason." 

"Derek!" Laura scolded. 

He ignored her, and fixed his glare on the man. "You still haven't answered my question. Who the hell are you?" 

"Well, with such a shining personality, how can I refuse to answer?" The young man smirked and gave Derek a saucy wink. "I'm Stiles Stilinski, and I'm your new emissary."


End file.
